


Running Deep in My Blood, Settling Beneath My Bones

by booksandmovies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek Hale Can Have Nice Things, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 15:05:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7176761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksandmovies/pseuds/booksandmovies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Isaac, Jackson, Cora, Erica and Boyd’s departure, Derek supposes it’s his turn now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Deep in My Blood, Settling Beneath My Bones

**Author's Note:**

> Canon divergence with a bunch of original characters. Unbetaed, so I apologize for any mistakes I made. Enjoy!

He supposes it’s inevitable. After Isaac, Jackson, Cora, Erica and Boyd’s departure, he supposes it’s his turn now. He looks back, stares back at what has become of Scott’s pack. Scott, an Alpha capable enough to lead his pack now. There are hard lines in his face and perhaps it should feel like yesterday, that first day not long ago when he met Scott. Young, oblivious, innocent and gentle. Baby fat in his cheeks and curious eyes. But it feels like a lifetime ago.

The Scott in front of him is a new person entirely. Strong, hard edges sculpted by the bitterness of life. The harsh experiences he’s been through. The people who left him along the way. He’s not perfect, no one is, but especially not Scott. Perhaps he’s still got a lot to learn but Derek’s confident that he’ll be able to face new challenges, conquer them and learn from them. He won’t be as lost Derek was, Derek’s sure of that.

Derek’s taught him everything he knows. Besides, he won’t have anything to worry about when Scott has Stiles guiding him every step of the way. Smart, stubborn and unfalteringly loyal Stiles. The very back bone of the McCall pack. Derek very pointedly does not look at Stiles.

He lets his gaze fall on Malia and can’t help but return the favor when she gives him a minute smile. He can feel all the words he has to say to her sitting right at the tip of his tongue. _Keep him safe,_ he wants to say. _Take care of him._

He doesn’t say it, of course.

He lets his eyes look around at each member of the McCall pack, all but one. Then he lets his eyes drop, looks sideways at Braeden and smiles at her, relief and hope settling deep beneath his bones. The sight of Braeden beckons to his mind the thought of a new beginning, far, far away from the land he’s standing on. Far away from the dark, painful memories of his past. Just before he leaves, he steals one more glance at Scott and his pack, his eyes lingering at one familiar silhouette whose features he can’t quite make out, backlit by the bright, shining sun.

\--

Eventually he and Braeden separate ways, and he’s not surprise to find that he doesn’t feel extremely upset or lost after she’s gone. He just feels the barest hint of sadness. The feeling of separation with a good friend whom he won’t probably see in a long, long while. He’s always known deep inside of him that whatever they had wasn’t going to make it in the long run.

After all, his heart wasn’t in it.

The feeling is with no doubt incomparable to the lost, leaden feeling that is lodged in his chest ever since he left Beacon Hills. The feeling of losing a part of him. Feeling bereft and sad, like there’s a stormy cloud above his head that he can’t quite get rid of.

He knows the feeling has less to do with Beacon Hills itself and more to do with the boy that holds a part of him in his fist, the boy with the ability to make Derek feel terrified of how he makes Derek feel. It’s strong, it’s terrifying and it is unlike anything he’s ever felt before.

He resolutely ignores it.

\--

The Rodriguez pack is the pack that reaches out to him first, somewhere within his first two weeks of living in Spain with Cora. He opens the door of the apartment to reveal the Alpha of the Rodriguez pack, a woman with a wrinkled and worn out face, sadness and recognition in her eyes. Her name is Amelia Rodriguez and Derek recalls her bringing her family to visits to his house. He remembers feeling giddy and excited to spend time with his Spanish friends and especially remembers the friendly, warm and motherly woman he used to affectionately call _Tia Amy._

Derek vaguely recalls the very first moment he laid his eyes on the beautiful woman sitting together on the couch across from her mother, frowning in concentration as she engages in what at the time seemed to be a really important conversation between her and his mother. In hindsight, Derek supposes they were probably talking about some important pack alliance stuff. Derek remembers feeling intimidated by the stranger, before that fear faded away as Amelia caught sight of him lurking behind the couch that his mother was sitting on and beckoned him forward with a kind smile.

“Oh, Derek.” She says, her long bony fingers reaching up to cup his cheeks and Derek gazes at her, his heart swelling with affection, familiarity and wistfulness. “ _Tia._ ” He greets and when she wraps her two arms around him in a gentle embrace, he wraps his own arms around her. He can feel her ribs protruding out of her lower back and even though he knows that she’s anything _but_ fragile, he can’t help but be very careful with her. He hasn’t seen her since a few years before the fire, and the sight of her and her scent, reminds him of what his life used to be.

She pulls back, and she strokes his cheek, looking up at him. Derek remembers the days when it was _him_ who would look up at her whenever they talk.

“Remember, you and Cora will always have a place in our pack.”

Derek feels grateful, and all of a sudden his life doesn't seem to be that bleak anymore.

“ _Gracias, Tia.”_ He says, and he really does mean it, hopes that all his sincerity is conveyed in those two simple words.

\--

As he’s entering the fifth month of him living in Spain with Cora, Derek is finally able to say that he’s quite pleased with how his life is at the moment. He loves the apartment he’s staying in, loves Spain with its people and its culture. He’s even been enjoying his job as an English teacher even though he was highly skeptical of it when Cora first pitched the idea to him. But most of all he’s glad to finally be able to live quite peacefully. The packs in Spain seem to be quite content with leaving the two of them alone—which Derek is incredibly grateful for. There’s the Rodriguez pack, of course, and sometimes they get invited over to _Tia Amy’s_ for dinner but for the most part they keep to themselves, just the two of them and Elena. The supernatural life in Spain is also dull and quiet, which is how Derek likes it.  

In his downtime, Derek likes to read books. He’s been busying himself with going through the list of classics he wants to finish, but he’s also been immersing himself in some local Spanish literature, which he finds quite intriguing.

Even though he finds reading quite fun in itself, it’s also surprisingly fun to have fervent debates about books, something he finds out after participating in quite a few exciting ones with Elena.

“What have you been reading?” Elena asks as she walks into the apartment, her navy blue backpack slung over one shoulder and a brown paper bag with what looks to Derek like some _churros_ peeking out of the top of it. Behind her, the door closes and locks with a beep. She kicks off her sneakers at the door.

Derek looks up at her and Elena approaches him, planting a kiss on his cheek before setting the bag of _churros_ on the kitchen counter behind the couch that he was sitting on. She then leaps over the back of the couch and lands on the large cushions covering the couch. Derek smiles absentmindedly as his eyes linger on the pretty-looking cushions with tribal patterns embroidered all over them. He had bought them together with Cora a few days after he moved in.

“Derek.” Elena nudges his thigh with her foot and Derek looks up at her, somewhat abruptly. “Huh?”

“What have you been reading?” She asks again, raising one of her dark eyebrows, amusement apparent in the twitch of her lips.

“Oh, uh, Charlotte Brontё.” Derek replies, closing the book with his thumb between the pages to show her the paperback cover of _Jane Eyre._

“Ah!” Elena’s eyes lit up, her eyebrows lifting in recognition. “Loved that. You finished _The Old Man and the Sea,_ then?”

Derek nodded, his thumb stroking the embossed title on the book cover. “Just yesterday.”

“That book was difficult. I struggled to finish it.” Elena made a face. Then he nudged him again with her foot, leaning back against the cushions. “Aren’t you tired of just reading classics?”

Derek opened his mouth to protest, but Elena cut him off with a knowing look, “Those Spanish books you’ve been reading are just as heavy.” Derek frowned. Elena laughs.

“I mean, try branching out, you know? Get away from the heavy stuff sometimes and try YA?”

Derek’s frown deepened.

“Here we go again with the judgey eyebrows. Stop it with the judgey eyebrows. Not all YA are as bad as you think. Some of them are pretty good.” She nods with a smile.

Derek pauses for a moment, lost in his thoughts.

_‘Hey, no offense, but your eyebrows are kinda… judgey.’_

_‘What?’_

_‘You know, judgey. You judge everything with your eyebrows, you know? It’s your main form of communication.’_

_Derek shakes his head, barely suppressing his smile._

_‘Stiles, you’re not making any sense.’_

“Dinner’s ready!” Cora calls from the kitchen and Derek snaps back into reality. Elena leaps off the couch, stretching her limbs and running her fingers through her pixie cut. Inexplicably, she looks even better with her dark brown locks all messed up. There’s just something about Elena and her devil-may-care attitude, Derek supposes.

“Yes, I’m starving!” She groans as she pads over to the dining table.

Elena reminds him too much of all he’s lost, sometimes.

\--

The thought does cross his mind sometimes. Sometimes he thinks that it’s finally time to move on. Sometimes he’d walk pass a crowded bar or see a couple in a café and think that maybe he should get out there and try to find someone else, get back into the dating game.

Elena teases him sometimes, saying that he should find someone to date and do less sulking at home.

“Hey, you might be young and beautiful, but you’re not going to be young and beautiful _forever._ ” She’d say and Derek would just shake his head with a helpless smile.

Cora is equally as supportive, but one afternoon when both of them are relaxing and watching TV, having a lazy Sunday, she calls his name softly. Softer than usual, and so unlike Cora, and when he turns to look at her, his sister is looking at him with a gentle, cautious gaze like she’s about to thread on some incredibly thin ice.

“Der, I know that Elena and I have been encouraging you to, you know, get out there again. Find someone. Be happy.” She says, still with that guarded expression.

Derek stares at her quietly and feels like he knows where this conversation is headed.

“But I also just want you to take your time, you know? Be careful, thread with care. Your track record isn’t exactly the best, and I’m not even sure if you’ve moved on yet.”

Anyone else would assume that she’s talking about Braeden but Derek sees the deep warmth and genuine concern in her eyes, the way she’s taking his fingers in hers and giving them a light squeeze and the carefulness that he usually wouldn’t associate with Cora and he just knows that she _knows._

In the past he would probably recoil from this kind of attention, avoid having his pride bruised from welcoming the _pity_ from other people. But in the years after the fire he’s learnt to grow, to stop letting his ego get to him and to become more mature. To recognize that other people’s sympathy doesn’t always have to be seen as pity. He’s learnt to truly see the meaning of their actions and that they are truly concerned for his well-being.

Derek thinks of pale skin dotted with moles, thinks of sharp and sarcastic comments, thinks of defiant and bright amber eyes staring at him boldly and thinks of a familiar voice yelling at him, telling him repeatedly that he _deserves nice things and to be surrounded by people who care about him._

He smiles at Cora, gratitude blooming in his chest and gives her fingers a gentle squeeze in return.

“Thanks.”

Cora’s smile widens minutely and they both turn back to the TV screen as if nothing has happened.

\--

“Okay, guys. That’s it for today. Have a nice day.” He smiles at the class, gathering his books and tidying them up on his desk. His work is not done; it’ll be at least two more hours before he can leave the language center. He heaves a sigh as he watches his students, which mostly consists of college students and adults, file out of the classroom.

He glances at the clock on the wall and it shows that it’s five minutes until noon. Elena should arrive soon, he thinks. It’s so strange sometimes to think that someone he didn’t even know a year ago has become such an important figure in his life. Elena is family to Derek now and despite living separately from Cora and Derek, she sleeps over at their place so often that it might as well be her home, too.

Derek adjusts the leather strap of his watch absentmindedly and is about to dive into the mountain of papers that he has to grade when suddenly there’s a quick rap on the door and he looks up find Elena leaning against the open doorway with her usual playful smile.

“Hello, Sexy Teacher Derek Hale. I’m here for an additional lesson.” She says and then punctuates her statement with a flirty wink.

Derek merely shakes his head with a small smile at her antics. “Come in, Elena.”

Elena laughs and enters the empty classroom, sauntering up to his desk and setting down the lunchbox in front of him. “Here you go.”

“What is it?” Derek questions as he eyes the grey lunchbox that contains his lunch for the day, prepared by Cora. Elena shrugs. “I don’t know. Didn’t ask. I need to go, don’t postpone your lunch for too long, and work hard.” She leans down and pecks Derek cheek. “Bye!” She exclaims before she runs out the door, Derek’s eyes following her figure and lingering at the now empty doorway fondly.

He turns back to his desk and begins grading the first paper on top of the thick stack of papers at the top left corner of his desk. He is halfway through the second paper when he hears another knock on the door. He smiles and shakes his head, and this time he doesn’t even bother looking up from the paper in front of him as he continues his work. “What is it, Elena? You left something? You’re gonna be late for class.”

When the only answer he gets is silence, he furrows his eyebrows and looks at the doorway.

Then, suddenly, he finds that he can’t breathe and he drops the pen that he is clutching, staring at the person standing in front of him, wide eyed.

He stands up abruptly and when he speaks he sounds as breathless as he feels.

“Stiles.”

The boy in front of him stares back at him, looking like he has too much to say and nothing to say at the same time, meeting Derek’s gaze nervously, then glancing at the ground, and then meeting his gaze again rapidly.

He’s wringing his fingers as he nods.

“Derek."

“What are you doing here?” His voice is too low and quiet.

“I, uh,” Stiles runs his fingers through his hair haphazardly, scuffing his shoes against the floor, “I’ve been looking for you since a few months ago. You know, I asked around, heard some stuff here and there.” He laughs, but it sounds hollow and the way he stares at Derek with dark circles around his eyes makes his gaze almost haunting. Something is terribly, terribly wrong, Derek decides.

“Stiles, are you okay?” He steps forwards hesitantly and as he gets closer he notices how Stiles _still_ can’t keep still. He’s even more fidgety than usual and that plus the scent of sorrow and sadness just wafting off of him is more than enough to sound off an alarm in Derek’s head.

“I…” Stiles starts, looking away from him briefly, his gaze dropping to his shoes. Derek waits patiently.

Stiles chuckles, the sound so horrible, and when he looks up at Derek his eyes are glistening with unshed tears. “I _really_ wish that I could say I’m okay, but… I’m not. Look—”

Stiles licks his chapped lips and looks up at him and Derek’s nostrils flare with the new spark in Stiles’ scent; a whiff of anger.

“Look, can we just stop pretending that everything’s fine? Stop pretending that you don’t know what’s happening.”

Derek has difficulty swallowing, like something is lodged in his throat. “What do you mean?”

“When you left, you didn’t even say goodbye. You looked at everyone _but_ me. What, I wasn’t good enough to deserve a goodbye?”

“Stiles—”

“How did you think that made me feel, huh?”

“Stiles, listen—”

“I’m sorry if all of a sudden I’m too beneath you now, now that you have Braeden. Or had? I don’t even know what’s going on with you anymore, because you didn’t even try keeping in contact with me—with any of us, did you—”

“Stiles!”

At Derek’s shout, Stiles stops his tirade. The latter was slightly of breath and the scent of his anger is now strong and all-encompassing.

“It wasn’t that you didn’t deserve a goodbye.” Derek said. “It was that I couldn’t do it.”

Stiles scoffs. “You _couldn’t do it._ Yeah, that sounds like a load of bullshit to me, you’re gonna have to try and find a better answer.”

Derek ignores him and closes his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose to calm his nerves and to fortify his courage to let the words out.

“I was afraid that if I did it I would think twice about leaving. I couldn’t take the idea of leaving you and I just needed to move on. I couldn’t afford to think twice when I was already so terrified.” The words come out of his mouth heavily, like someone else is dragging them out of his throat with considerable effort.

“And yet you did.”

“There’s nothing left for me there.”

“I wanted to come with you.” Stiles admits and at the confession, Derek’s breath hitches.

“You said all that bullshit about not being able to take the idea of leaving me, but have you ever once thought about how I would take just the _mere_ idea of you leaving me?”

Derek furrows his eyebrows. Of course. Stiles is all Derek thinks about; he’s always at the forefront of Derek’s mind. Before Derek left, he had thought about Stiles and Derek thought—

He thought—

“I thought about it. I know you had Malia—”

“Malia?” Stiles’ voice raises a few octaves and he shakes his head, scoffing in disbelief. “Really, Derek?”

Derek doesn’t know what to think.

“Are you really that oblivious? Or are you just pretending to be dumb?”

Derek just stares dumbly at Stiles. He’s not sure he’s following the conversation anymore. What is Stiles even talking about?

“Even Malia noticed that as much as I tried to be, my heart just wasn’t in it. Even Malia noticed that I wasn’t invested in the relationship because I was too invested in _you,_ you bastard.” Stiles spits angrily, as if the words were bitter venom. Derek stares at him in with a mix of every emotion imaginable combined and he feels overwhelmed and sick, to the point in which he physically staggers backward and has to brace himself on his desk with one arm.

“Derek, I’m in love with you. And, God, you have no idea how much I hated you for making me fall for you.” Stiles buries his fingers in his dark locks and yanks in frustration.

“But Malia…” Derek trails off, managing to just force those two words out of his throat. Too much is happening all at once and Derek’s brain, heart and body are all having trouble processing all the information and feelings wreaking havoc within him.

“I thought I could move on from you if I found someone else. And for the record, I want to say that before we got together, I warned Malia. I told her that I wasn’t completely over you. At the time I didn’t say your name, and she didn’t pry. But eventually she figured out anyway.”

Derek dares himself to look over at Stiles and the latter is sitting on one of his student’s desks, long legs outstretched in front of him, lips curving into a bitter smile.

“A few months into our relationship she figured it out anyway. I felt like a dick, of course. But she said she understood, and it was okay for us to keep… being together. She said she could be patient and she could wait. Me, being the insensitive disgusting piece of shit I was, agreed. But it all came to a head the day after you left.”

“I wanted to come with you so bad. At the time it felt like I was ready to abandon everything for you and that scared me, Derek. I decided that it was enough. I was hurting her and I was so desperate to get over you, to be done with you that I selfishly agreed to still be in a relationship with her when I was so obviously gone for you. The day after you left, we broke up.”

“Everything’s falling apart ever since you left. I needed to get out of there, it’s too much. Everything’s too much. It’s fucking depressing.”

Stiles lets out a long breath, sounding worn out and looking like he’s got the whole world on his shoulders, weighing him down. “You know what the worst part is?”

Derek looks at him, encouraging him to continue, waits for him to answer his own question and as always, Stiles obliges.

“The worst part is even after all the shit you’ve put me through all I really want is to see you happy. I saw her earlier. She’s… pretty.” Stiles swallows thickly, before biting his lower lip.

“And I’m happy for you.” Stiles smiles at him, jaw clenched. A tear rolls down his cheek and he wipes it away hastily, looking downwards. “It’s true. I’m glad you’ve moved on, Derek. Proud of you, even. I mean, look at your life now!” Stiles straightens up, gesturing around him with a smile so wide and so fake, it looks painful. “Great job, living in a beautiful country, with... with an equally beautiful girlfriend.” Stiles’ smile can’t even be called a smile anymore, it’s a grimace and Derek sighs wonders how they’ve come to be at this point, thinks about all the wayward paths they’ve been on, full of confusion, anguish and misunderstandings.

“Stiles, I’m not—” Derek runs his fingers through his tangled black locks, laughs a little at the absurd idea of him dating _Elena._ “I’m not dating her. I’m not dating _anyone._ ” _How could I, when I still think of you every day?_

Stiles, whose lips previously curled up in a sad excuse of a smile, stares at him, utterly flabbergasted. His jaw drops and he stares at Derek with his mouth ajar, shaking his head slightly. “I—I don’t— What?”

Derek takes a deep breath and gazes at Stiles—who _wants_ Derek, who _loves_ Derek, is _in love_ with Derek—with yearning; heart aching as he lets a wave of affection for the boy standing in front of him wash over him. For the first time since he left Beacon Hills—since he left Stiles and forced himself to forget—he allows the light tendrils of hope to curl around his battered heart.

“She’s _Cora’s_ girlfriend.” He explains and watches the understanding bleed into Stiles’ expression.

“I—“ Stiles exhales heavily, blinking at him with careful eyes, a guarded demeanor. “So, you’re not dating anyone?”

Derek shakes his head.

“Then, will you have me? I don’t know if it’s been made clear to you, but I’m kind of hopelessly in love with you.” Stiles says, his tone light and joking, but his eyes are still staring at Derek so carefully, yet so open with fear, hope and vulnerability. Stiles is revealing himself to Derek, yet at the same time he looks afraid, like Derek is holding his fragile heart in his hands. Stiles is hoping, but perhaps a part of him still believes that Derek would do the unthinkable; a part him is terrified that Derek would reject him and crush his heart with a swift flick of Derek’s wrist.

Derek gazes at him with tenderness, feeling breathless and slightly incredulous that after all this time, after all the torment, comes the grief and now they’ve finally reached the resolution— _a happy ending,_ he thinks, almost giddily—and they made it out alive. The time has finally come to mend things that are broken, to flip a new chapter in life’s book.

“Stiles, you never lost me, You’ve always had me.” Derek admits and watches Stiles inhale softly at his confession, his pupils blown wide. Tentatively, he steps closer to Derek and fists a handful of Derek’s shirt, bringing their lips together.

No, Derek thinks as their lips caress each other softly, it’s not an end. He feels fiery with passion, joy rushing through his veins, his skin ablaze wherever Stiles’ hands touch him. It’s—hopefully—a new beginning of a terrifying adventure. Derek isn’t foolish enough to think that the road ahead of them will be smooth.

Derek gasps as Stiles playfully bites Derek’s lower lip, those Bambi eyes staring up at him with mischief.

With this one, the road is always going to be hard and bumpy. He thinks of the shouting matches, the weeks of tension and thinks of hurt, heartbroken amber eyes staring at him. Thinks that he’ll go through hell and back as long as it’s with Stiles.

“I love you.” Derek whispers, in between heated kisses.

“I love you, too, you dumbass.” Stiles grins up at him and Derek realizes just how much he’s missed that smile, wonders how he’s survived months without it.

“I missed you. There wasn’t a day where the thought of you didn’t cross my mind.” Derek confesses solemnly. Stiles nips at his lower lip once again, rolling his eyes as he buries his face in the crook of Derek’s neck.

“You’re such a sap, oh my God.” He mumbles, his voice muffled by the fabric of Derek’s shirt and Derek merely holds him tighter in response, a helpless smile blooming on his face.

 

Later that night, Stiles is over at Derek and Cora’s for dinner. When Derek mentions that Stiles actually thought that he was dating Elena, Elena laughs so hard she chokes on the water she’s drinking. Stiles is flustered as Derek hides a smile and Cora pats her girlfriend’s back with considerable force, her gaze fond.

“I can’t believe—“ She wheezes, tears rolling down her face as she clutches her stomach, her grin so wide it could probably split her face in half. “You thought I was dating _Derek?_ Please, I assure you, I am one hundred percent into girls—a fact that I knew ever since I was five years old and had a crush on one of my classmates, the one with the pigtails.” She turns to Cora, her nose scrunched up in thought, and Stiles is just incredibly thankful that she’s stopped laughing. Derek is still chuckling though, and Stiles frowns disapprovingly before elbowing him in the ribs.

“I told you about her, didn’t I?” Elena asks Cora and the latter nods.

“Carrie Johnson, right?”

“Yes!” Elena exclaims, clapping her hands loudly for emphasis. “Carrie!”

She clears her throat, clasping her hands together and leaning forwards, looking at Stiles. “The _point_ is… I am not into guys, _any guy,_ let alone _Derek._ ” She snickers again, before making a face. “That would be like, dating my brother.”

Stiles’ cheeks are tinted pink but his shoulders finally sag down in relief as Elena moves on to the story of a fellow student at her university and how he slept through the whole lecture and _oh my god you should’ve seen the puddle of drool on the table!_

As the night goes on, Stiles discovers that Elena is actually a really nice person and that she’s really fun to hang out with, once she actually stops making fun of Stiles and starts taking him seriously.

(He also finds out, however, how _terrifying_ she can be when she pulls him aside by the kitchen counter, bowl of caramel popcorn in one hand, Derek and Cora sitting in front of the TV patiently waiting for them and said bowl of popcorn before beginning the movie marathon they all agreed on, when she gives him the mandatory break-his-heart-and-I’ll-break-your-neck talk.)

 

 

 

(At their wedding, during her speech, Cora gets the honor of telling the story of how Stiles thought that Derek and Elena were dating, much to Stiles' dismay. Derek hides a smile behind his hand, his ring glinting under the bright lights. Elena smirks and pulls Stiles aside. She looks into his eyes as her smirk fades into a smile, her eyes brimming with sincerity as she says, “I’m glad it’s you. Take care of him, okay? The breaking your neck thing still applies.” 

Of course, by then, Stiles is no longer terrified, but promises to take care of Derek’s heart all the same.)


End file.
